


that the moon needs time to become full

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Inspired by Art, M/M, Silver Fox Steve Rogers, Twink Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: If Steve is what's on the other side of damnation, Tony's more than willing to fall.In which GDILF!Steve teaches twink!Tony the power of patience.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 159





	that the moon needs time to become full

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pineapplebreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapplebreads/gifts).



> Title from a Rumi poem. Based on [this DAZZLING art](https://twitter.com/pineappletoasts/status/1352983172699410439) for the equally dazzling Jay. Thanks for always blessing us with your art, sunshine!

Tony trembles as he slips the robe on over the teddy that Steve had left laid out for him in their shared bathroom. He shouldn't feel so uncertain; Steve's been a sure thing from day one. But this, the vulnerability and the temptation in his clothing, it feels like more than he's ever put on the line for Steve before. It feels like the world is setting him up for failure, tempting him to damnation.

If Steve is what's on the other side of damnation, Tony's more than willing to fall.

Tony ties the brown cord loosely around his waist, adjusting the robe so that it covers the pale pink lingerie while still leaving his chest visible. He takes a slow, shuddering breath and unlocks the door connecting the ensuite to the bedroom.

Steve's still on the other side of the room, seated at the small drafting table near the window. His head is bent over as he works on something, his long silver hair hiding his face from Tony's view. Steve doesn't look up at him.

Tony makes his way across the room slowly, careful to keep his balance on the high heels that he'd found atop the lingerie on the bathroom counter. It's not the first time he's walked in high heels, but it's been awhile, and the last thing he needs is to fall and embarrass himself in front of Steve. He makes his way across the room to stand at Steve's side, but Steve still doesn't look up at him. Tony bites his lip hard. He has to fight to keep his hands loose at his sides instead of folding them over his slowly hardening cock. He hadn't thought someone that looked as mature and refined as Steve could match his barely legal sex drive, but even now, two years later, Steve's stamina puts Tony's to shame.

"You know what to do."

Tony startles at the words. He bites his lip hard to stifle a groan. He does know what to do. That's the best part. He knows because Steve's told him, time and time again. No secrets, no games, and this is what Tony's always wanted and never thought he could have.

He goes to his knees at Steve's side, bowing his head. Steve places a hand on the back of Tony's head, anchoring him into his body. And— _oh_. How had Steve known that this was what he needed? Tony closes his eyes, lets the world narrow down to nothing but the feel of Steve's hand on his head and the clothes Steve had bought for him on his skin. He feels it in his marrow every time Steve's thumb restarts its course through his hair. He feels it in his soul each time the lace and silk shift and play over his skin when he moves. Steve is surrounding him in that way he always does, filling him and completing him and making him _whole_.

Tony doesn't realize how far he's sunk into his own head until Steve fists Tony's hair in one hand and tugs his head back sharply. Tony's lips part instinctively, and his eyelids flutter, taking in Steve's spread legs and the hardon his robe is poorly hiding. Tony starts, realizing that he's half hard beneath the lace and silk and that, despite his own lust, his mouth is watering with the need to suck Steve.

Tony leans forward, but the hand in his hair holds him back. "Patience, sweetheart," Steve's voice is gentle and warm and Tony melts. He nods, his eyes still trained on Steve's cock. "There's my boy."

Tony is putty in Steve's hands.

Steve taps the toe of his left shoe against Tony's knee. Tony knows what to do instinctively. He slips Steve's shoe off, then undoes the sock garters, dragging them slowly down Steve's calf. He kisses every inch of skin as it appears beneath his fingers, as Steve runs his own fingers through Tony's hair. Tony tries not to moan, tries not to give too much away, but it's Steve, and he really can't help it. Steve rewards him by pulling him up to kiss his lips once the first sock has been discarded.

"Now the other," he murmurs against Tony's lips.

Tony hurries to comply, but Steve tugs at his hair when he tries to move too fast.

"Slowly, sweetheart. Patience."

Tony wets his lips and nods, even as saliva pools beneath his tongue with the thought of what's still to come. He holds himself together and slips the other shoe off of Steve's foot, the other sock off of Steve's calf. He pushes up onto his knees, ready to pull Steve's cock out, but a glance at Steve's raised eyebrow is enough to make him settle back down on the floor. That earns him a smile from Steve.

"There's my good boy." He leans forward to kiss Tony again, and Tony is just greedy enough to nip at Steve's bottom lip to encourage a deeper kiss. Instead, Steve pulls away. "Stand. And no touching without permission."

Tony swallows a groan and gets to his feet. Steve traces his fingers along the edge of the dressing gown, rubbing the material between his fingers. Tony can hear the way his calluses catch on the fine, raised portions of the fabric — and isn't that fascinating? The way a man as rich and refined as Steve still has calluses? — just as easily as the way they smooth over the smooth silk on the interior lining.

"Don't you look fine, my boy."

"Yessir."

Steve smiles up at him. Tucks Tony's hair behind his ear. Pulls Tony down into another kiss. "Such a pretty young man."

Tony shivers, and even as he's kissing Steve, Steve's fingers are gliding along the silk of the dressing gown. A moment before Tony realizes what he's doing, Steve redirects his fingers and tweaks Tony's nipple through the lace of the lingerie. Tony whimpers, and Steve does it again.

"Why don't you take that dressing gown off, hmm?"

Tony doesn't need to be told twice. His fingers fumble with the thick cord at his waist, but he doesn't bother doing anything fancy with the dressing gown. As soon as it's untied, he slips it off of his shoulders to pool at his feet. He almost misses the hot flare of desire in Steve's eyes. Before he can say anything about it, though, Steve's tracing the backs of his fingers along the edge of the teddy, sliding down from Tony's shoulder, to the space scant inches from his nipple, to the spot where the two sides meet, just above his navel. Then, instead of reaching down to undo the satin ribbon at Tony's waist, he slides his hand back up the other side of Tony's chest in the same way. Tony bites his lip so that he doesn't say anything, but Steve seems to hear the words regardless.

"Patience, Tony. Isn't that what I've been teaching you all this time?"

Tony bows his head. "Yessir."

"Good boy. Now, let's see if you've done as you were told, hmm?" Steve slides his fingers over Tony's collarbone to the hollow of his throat, down the midline of his chest over his sternum, his navel, untangling the ribbon of the teddy so that it hangs loosely at Tony's sides, and down to his balls. Steve hums, rolling Tony's balls between his fingers. Tony has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from whining. "Well, it seems you've kept up this end of the bargain. You haven't come in four days, have you?"

"No, sir."

Steve smiles. "Well, that's certainly an improvement over last time." He leans forward to kiss the head of Tony's cock. That nearly does Tony in, but he holds himself together with sheer willpower. Steve smiles against Tony's skin. "See, Tony? You can do as you're told when you out your mind to it."

Tony nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Steve goes on fondling him, as though ensuring that his initial assertion had been correct. He brings his other hand into play, cupping Tony's hip, covering his pectoral, tweaking his nipple. Tony waits it all out, desperate for release, for the chance to come, to do anything, but Steve only switches hands. All Tony can do is endure.

It alternates between being soothing and being too much. He loves this, the power of Steve's attention, even when he feels like nothing more than an object in Steve's hands, a body to manipulate. Even then, he'd always felt more human in Steve's hands than he had anywhere else. Even when Steve's handling him clinically, distantly. It's enough to make it all worth it.

Almost.

In the end, it's too much, and Tony reaches for Steve too, desperate to reciprocate, to feel Steve under his hands, to feel Steve in his mouth, god, _anything_ more than this clinical touch on his cock.

It happens so fast it leaves Tony dizzy. Steve has him by one wrist, then both his wrists behind his back, and then Tony's face down on the bed, his feet still planted on the ground. Steve kicks his ankles apart, but before Tony can moan with the knowledge of what's coming, Steve's spanking him. Tony groans, melts, _succumbs_ , and it's all he can do not to babble and beg.

"I told you, Tony," and Steve's voice is as light and easy as if they were discussing the morning paper. "Patience." The smacks are perfunctory, and Tony can't even hate the way that turns him on even more. "That's what you're here to learn, isn't it?"

_No_ , Tony wants to scream. I'm here for you to fuck me. But he holds his tongue, and he can hear the smile in Steve's voice when he speaks next.

"And there you go again, proving my point. You can learn when you're properly motivated."

The thought of Steve's cock in his ass or mouth or, fuck, even his _hand_ at this point certainly is enough of a motivator.

"Now," Steve says after the last smack, "do you know why I had to punish you?"

"I took before you offered, sir."

"Very good. But don't start thinking that calling me sir is going to get you any sort of special treatment. It's not. You know what you're expected to call me when we're in here, and adding it in when you think it isn't necessary isn't going to save you from what's coming."

"And what is coming?" Tony's voice is trembling, and not even he can tell if it's from lust or fear.

"Well, I was going to fuck you," and Tony can't hold back a moan at that, "but since you're so impatient, I daresay a but more punishment is in order. I think I'll have you warm my cock while I finish these last few sketches I was putting off for you."

Tony whimpers, but Steve's face shows no sign of relenting when Tony chances a glance over his shoulder. Steve tugs Tony back over to his drafting table and eases him beneath it. His hands are gentle but firm, and Tony would be embarrassed at how excited he is if he wasn't so turned on. He fits easily under the drafting table, and Steve arranges him to his liking before sitting down. He slides the chair in close, parts the dressing gown around his legs, and reaches for Tony's head.

He maneuvers Tony's head into place, and Tony doesn't have to be told to open his mouth to swallow Steve down.

It shouldn't be so easy to slip into this role — quiet, docile, _submissive_ — but with Steve, it is.

Tony loses himself to the ache in his knees, the gentle _scritch scritch_ of Steve's pencils, and the taste of Steve in his mouth. He spends the first few minutes mentally reciting his mechanical engineering dissertation in reverse, followed by the physics dissertation he'd defended eighteen months ago. Also in reverse. Soon enough, though, between the weight of Steve on his tongue and the scent of Steve in his nose, he'd slipped into that zen state he'd never known before Steve. It's like Steve knew the secret to Tony's mind that not even Tony himself had ever learned, and then he'd used it to _save_ Tony instead of damn him. He just quiets Tony's brain for a few hours, gives him an orgasm and lets Tony repay him in kind, but there's nothing more than that. No ulterior motives. No underhanded schemes. There's nothing more than Steve's skin under his hands, Steve's lips pressed to his, and Steve's cock in his mouth.

It's perfect.

Tony's jaw is aching, but it feels distant, foreign, not pressing in the slightest. His knees are sore, but that feeling is even further away. All that matters right now is Steve.

When Steve's hand settles in Tony's hair, Tony doesn't startle so much as drift slowly up to the surface. "You've been good, baby boy," he says. "So good. Do you want a reward?"

Tony gives an eager hum, and Steve chuckles. "Okay then. Get me off, with just your mouth."

Tony closes his eyes. That's something he can do.

It's tongue and lips and a hint of teeth, slick and wet despite how dry his mouth should be after so long wrapped around Steve's cock. Steve makes approving sounds once Tony settles in. His hand retreats and the sound of his pencil starts up again. Tony doesn't mind, though. He can feel the way Steve's responding in the clench of his thighs, the restrained push of his hips. There's no need to rush. This isn't like it was an hour ago when Tony was desperate just to get Steve off. This is a joy and a relief, to be allowed to give Steve an orgasm. It's perfect.

Tony sucks and swallows and bobs his head, all his focus on Steve. Even so, he somehow misses how close Steve is to the edge until he hears a pencil snap and feels Steve's hands in his hair. Tony relaxes his throat and closes his eyes, letting Steve take. And boy, does Steve know how to take.

When he comes down Tony's throat, it's less a shock to the system and more a culmination of all that the last few hours have been. From the clothing to the temptation to the eventual orgasm, there was still so much in the moment, and Tony can't complain.

Steve eases Tony to his feet. When Tony's knees buckle, Steve redirects Tony so he collapses in Steve's lap instead of on the floor. He pulls Tony into a kiss, his mouth working warm and easy over Tony's. He pulls back finally, tucking Tony's head into the crook of his neck so he can come down.

When he does, Tony noses at Steve's jaw until he turns and kisses Tony again. "What were y'drawin?"

"You want to see?"

Tony nods.

Steve shows Tony the last page of sketches he'd been working on. Tony almost doesn't recognize himself, but Steve's an impeccable artist, and there's no denying that that's Tony's face. That's Tony, mouth wrapped around Steve's cock, eyes glazed and glassy with lust, hair pulled back from the way Steve had carded his fingers through it.

"Oh," Tony says. "I didn't know you…" He trails off. He doesn't have the words to finish the sentence.

Steve pulls him in and kisses his forehead. "That's exactly how I see you, sweetness. You're just as beautiful as you I've drawn you."

Tony almost believes him. It's closer than he's ever been to believing him, and he wants so desperately to hear the truth in Steve's words. But he can't. Not yet.

Steve sighs, as though reading Tony's mind. "Alright then. Let's get you out of that teddy, hmm?"

Tony looks up at him. "You mean—"

Steve laughs. "Come now, beloved," he says, warm and gentle. "You didn't think I'd get you off so quickly when you haven't shown me that you can be patient yet, did you?"

Tony whimpers. He knows exactly what he's in for, and for all that he knows Steve intends it as a punishment, it isn't. Having Steve's attention on him while he edges Tony to tears is one of the greatest rewards he could fathom.

Tony can't wait.


End file.
